and the snakes start to sing
by therealjainasolo
Summary: Lorcan Jones never asked for any of this. She never wanted to move to the North Side and she never wanted to get involved in any of that stupid business with Jason Blossom. But she had. And now, it was coming back to bite her on the ass. Sweet Pea/OC
1. river's edge

Riverdale.

It seemed to be such a typical small-town place. A place where neighbours greeted each other kindly in the streets and baked each other pies. A place where the community spirit flowed through the veins of every person.

Bullshit.

Riverdale was in reality a toxic waste dump. A dark town where families were at war and murderers stalked the streets. It was a town run rampant with lies and death, blood and tears. It was a town of _chaos_.

None knew that better than Lorcan Jones.

She was sat in a booth at Pop's Chock'lit Shoppe blowing bubbles into her soda on the last day of summer vacation. AKA the last day before returning to hell on earth.

And Jason Blossom wouldn't be there anymore. Although, to be honest, that had never meant much to Lorcan. Not until July 4th anyway.

The knot in her stomach had still not left her.

Lorcan shook her head to dispel such thoughts and tried not to listen in on the conversation Archie Andrews and Betty Cooper were having in the booth in front of her. Something about demos – looks like Andrews was into music…huh – and construction. Betty seemed to be wanting to tell him something. Probably the fact that she was in love with him, something the entire world had known for fifty odd years but that Archie still seemed to be oblivious to.

(It was also common knowledge that Archie Andrews had been in love with Lorcan Jones ever since she transferred to Riverdale High just shy of eight months ago.)

Although, perhaps the summer had changed that, Lorcan mused, glancing up from her soda to look over at the redheaded boy whose attention now seemed fixed on the figure that had just entered the diner. Lorcan surreptitiously glanced round to see a dark- haired girl wearing what could only be described as a cape glide into the diner.

Attention turned back to her table, Lorcan tried not to snort. Maybe that was Andrews' type: the 'new girl'.

Shaking her head in amusement, Lorcan took a glance down at her sketchpad which was resting on the table in front of her. Pencil in hand, she finished shading the last bit and drained her glass of soda. Sudden raucous laughter from the table in front of her – apparently New Girl had said something to make Archie and only Archie laugh – nearly surprised her to the extent of snapping her pencil lead but, thankfully, the piece was done.

Lorcan put down her pencil and leaned back in her seat, taking in her latest sketch in all its morbid detail.

It was of Sweetwater Bay. Just the water, no boats or Blossoms in sight. But still, an air of sadness permeated the piece.

As if Lorcan somehow knew, then, just what had _really_ happened that day.

But, of course, she didn't. All she _did_ know was that Jason Blossom had never reached the farm she had sent him to. And that was enough to constantly make her feel sick.

* * *

"Lorcan Emilia, you get that lazy ass out of bed before I drag you out of it myself."

The voice of Irene Astor floated through Lorcan's closed door early the next morning and the aforementioned girl, who, contrary to her aunt's belief, was not in bed but hanging half way out of her window as she helped someone out of it, groaned.

"I'll speak to you later," she hissed at the person currently hanging precariously in front of her and closed the window. The other person nodded, before dropping out of sight. Lorcan watched him make his furtive escape out of Astor territory before turning back to yell, "I'm up! Jesus, woman!"

"Don't you speak to me like that!" her aunt yelled back, probably still at least a floor away but that didn't stop Lorcan from rolling her eyes at the door.

"Oh crap," Lorcan sighed, spotting a piece of incriminating clothing that had been left behind by her clandestine night guest. She scooped the flannel shirt from the couch at the foot of her bed and quickly stuffed it into her school bag.

Her mom wouldn't have been bothered by the person she had had sleeping on said couch. But _Irene_ most certainly would have. Irene hated anything that had anything to do with her sister's past, to the point where she refused to even utter the name 'Jones' in her ridiculous house, so the fact that a living, breathing reminder of it had been sleeping on her niece's couch on and off for God knows how long would most certainly have caused her to hit the roof.

Although, it was getting increasingly harder for Lorcan to find it within herself to give a _shit_ about what Irene thought.

* * *

The North Side's schooling system was a helluva a lot stricter, was one thing Lorcan had noted since moving in with her aunt. There were rules for just about everything, from how much of the shoulder a girl was allowed to expose to some stupid list of complicated etiquette surrounding football games. On the South Side, the general rule had been 'try not to kill anyone' and everyone had just got on with their lives. Simple as that. There was no pretence as the majority of the student body was forced to pretend to care about their education. School wasn't for everybody and that was accepted on the South Side.

But then, Lorcan supposed, that was the North Side to a tee. Pretence after pretence. _Fake_.

She felt suffocated here sometimes. Isolated too.

But the North Side did have one thing going for it. Jughead.

"Hey," Lorcan bumped shoulders with her cousin whilst walking down the main corridor, reaching into her bag and presenting him with his flannel shirt. "You left this."

Jughead looked down at the offering and grinned gratefully, taking it and putting it over his arm. "Thanks."

"No worries," Lorcan waved it off. "Just, next time, don't leave anything. If Irene had found that, you would no longer have been able to crash at mine because I would be _dead._ "

Jughead snorted. "That's a little dramatic. Couldn't you have just said it was yours?"

"Yeah," Lorcan scoffed, grabbing the collar of the shirt and pushing it in front of Jughead's face. "Cos I wear a lot of clothes with 'JJ' on them."

"Oh," Jughead frowned at the felt letters sewn onto the collar. "Hey, you only have yourself to blame for that because, as I remember it, _you_ sewed those on there."

"That's neither here nor there," Lorcan waved it away and the pair came to a halt in front of her locker. She opened the door and started piling things into her bag whilst Jughead leaned on the locker next to her.

"You could always say that it's Jet's?" he suggested humorously.

Lorcan snorted. Jet was her ten-year-old brother, one of fraternal twins. Irene had always had a problem with what to call Jet: his real name was Horatio Christopher but that was after their father and Irene was loathe to admit that _that man_ had ever existed. (Honestly, she acted as though Lorcan and her siblings with the result of some kind of Immaculate Conception…it was ridiculous.) But Jet felt too _'South Side'_ so the woman often seemed at a loss. Lorcan had more often than not caught her just sort of gesturing vaguely towards Jet before settling on something like 'Sweetie'. It was a little bit hilarious.

"That would _swamp_ Jet," she pointed out, closing the locker door and gesturing for them to move on.

"You may have a point," Jughead conceded dryly. The shrill tone of the bell sounded above them.

Jughead took a deep breath and flashed his cousin a sarcastic grin. "And let the games begin."

Lorcan groaned and the two Jones' turned towards the gymnasium for the welcome back assembly.

* * *

"Many of you were lucky enough to have known my brother personally."

Cheryl Blossom, bedecked in full grieving gear, stared out at her peers as she delivered her message. "Each and every one of you meant the world to Jason."

Lorcan swallowed. She knew just how much she had meant to Jason. She had been his chance to escape. His ticket out of Riverdale. And she had no idea if he had made it out.

 _Where are you, Jason?_

"I loved my brother," Cheryl continued. "He was, and always will be, my soul mate. So, I speak with the confidence _only_ a twin could have. Jason wouldn't want us to spend the whole year mourning. Jason _would_ want us to move on with our lives. Which is why I have asked the school board _not_ to cancel the back to school semi-formal."

She looked triumphantly out as the entire gymnasium erupted in cheers. Lorcan and Jughead, seated next to each other towards the top of the bleachers, exchanged tired looks. Another ridiculous part of life on the North Side, Lorcan mused. She stole a glance at the screen of Jughead's laptop and frowned.

"Another exposé about small-town life?" she asked quietly, deciding to tune out the rest of Cheryl's speech. It was clear that Jason's 'death' was little more than a chance for the girl to exert some power and Lorcan wanted no part in that. She had done all Cheryl had asked of her and that was enough. She didn't need to listen to her bullshit now as well.

Jughead looked down at the screen and sighed. "Something like that."

Lorcan was half way down the corridor, trying to make a hasty escape after her last class, when Cheryl caught her. "Well if it isn't the resident Bad Girl," the Blossom smiled, causing said girl to send a quick ' _Thanks a bunch'_ towards the heavens before turning to look at the redhead.

"Cheryl," she sighed. "Can I help you?" Jughead, the traitor that he was, had seen Cheryl coming long before Lorcan and had practically tripped in his haste to get out of her way. Luckily for him, she had no business with the male Jones, and now stood, arms crossed and grinning ferally at his cousin.

"You'll be coming to the back to school semi-formal tonight," Cheryl replied cheerily.

"That a question or an order?" Lorcan muttered drily, pulling her bag strap more securely over her shoulder and she shifted nervously.

Cheryl pulled a fake smile. "Walk with me Leprechaun."

Lorcan raised an eyebrow at the choice in nickname, but recognised that that was indeed an order and reluctantly fell in line beside Riverdale High's Queen.

"Look Cheryl, what do you want?" Lorcan sighed as the two made their way out towards the lunch tables.

"I want," Cheryl began brightly, spotting a familiar pair of heads and pulling Lorcan by the arm in their direction. "To introduce myself to the new girl."

Lorcan, realising where Cheryl was taking her, groaned. She really did not want to talk to Archie Andrews and his friends. When she had only been at Riverdale High a week, Jughead had felt it his duty to tell her that his childhood pal was majorly crushing on her. That, coupled with the fact that over the summer it seemed that puberty had finally taken its toll on the red-haired boy, was enough to make her feel more than a little awkward around him. And Betty…well she was Polly's sister. Kevin, she had no qualms with. Despite being the Sheriff's son and Lorcan having a less than stellar relationship with the police, Kevin had never caused her any problems. So far at least.

But Veronica Lodge? That could be a whole other kettle of fish.

Thankfully though, it seemed there was such thing as small mercies, as Archie Andrews left the table just as Lorcan and Cheryl arrived in front of it (probably making a quick escape of his own, Lorcan thought). Betty and Kevin seemed to be hastily giving instructions to Veronica but it was too late.

"Veronica Lodge. I've heard whisperings. I'm Cheryl Blossom," Cheryl introduced, hands on hips and red lips pulled into a smile. She looked expectantly at Lorcan, which Lorcan took to be her cue.

"Oh, and I'm Lorcan Jones," she said tiredly, flashing the ex-socialite what she hoped was a smile. Probably looked more like a grimace though.

"May we sit?" Cheryl asked brightly, already moving towards the bench and pulling Lorcan with her. "Betty, would you mind?" The girl pulled a face but had no option but to move.

Lorcan felt incredibly on edge sitting at this table, especially next to Cheryl who was asking, "So, what are you three hens gossiping about? Archie's Efron-esque emergence from the chrysalis of puberty?" Lorcan screwed her face up.

Veronica, it seemed, did have a brain as she tactfully said, "Extracurriculars. Weatherbee wants me to sign up for a few."

"Cheerleading," Cheryl exclaimed. "You must. I am senior captain of the River Vixens." She pushed her hair over one shoulder and grinned at the dark-haired girl.

"Is cheerleading still a thing?" Kevin asked and Lorcan had to hide her snort in her hand but still received a venomous glare from Cheryl.

"Is being the gay best friend still a thing?" she shot back and Kevin's face was a picture. "Some people say it's retro," she turned back to Veronica, still trying to sell her on the idea, "but I say it's eternal and iconic."

"At Spence, I sat at the top of the elites' pyramid. I'm in." Veronica actually seemed enthusiastic about the idea and Lorcan almost felt herself shrivel up at the smug tone the girl's voice had taken on. Seems she may have been right about this girl; more Cheryl's kind of person than hers. "Betty, you're trying out too."

Said Cooper seemed horrified by the idea and Lorcan shot her a sympathetic look.

"Lorcan," Veronica had now turned her attention to the other dark-haired girl. "Do you cheerlead?"

"You're not serious?" Cheryl seemed flabbergasted by the idea. "Lorcan is the complete opposite of cheerleading. Knowing her, she probably does some sort of ritual every football game in order to make our team _lose_."

Lorcan was amused by the idea. "How did you _know_ , Cheryl?" She gasped. "Oh God. Did you see that goat that I sacrificed the last time? I _knew_ I'd forgotten to clean something up!"

The others laughed but Cheryl's face turned stony. Lorcan, grinning, took that as her opportunity to make her exit and stood. "Well, I best be buying a horse this time. The more Vixens, the more I have to do to counter it. Laters." And with that, she turned to stride away.

"Why not a snake?" Cheryl called acidly, causing Lorcan to halt in her tracks. She shot a wide-eyed look back at the girl, who was now making her own departure and had grabbed her harshly by the arm.

"Ciao!" Cheryl called back to the very bemused looked trio, nails digging into Lorcan's arm despite the denim jacket she had on and practically dragging the dark-haired girl along.

"What the hell was that?" Lorcan hissed, trying to pry the claws out of her skin.

Cheryl pulled her into an empty classroom and closed the door. As soon as the door was shut, it was as though her mask slipped off. Her entire demeanour completely changed. The brash, snarky girl Lorcan knew was replaced by one with tears in her eyes. Cheryl had dropped her arm as though it burned her and started to pace around the classroom. Lorcan watched her nervously, sitting on the edge of the teacher's desk.

"Have you heard from Jason?" The girl halted and looked expectantly at Lorcan.

Lorcan swallowed. "No." She paused, knowing that Cheryl would only have asked if she was desperate. "And I take it, you haven't either?"

Cheryl shook her head, causing a few tears to fall. "Do you think he's okay?"

Lorcan jumped off the table and took her hands gently. "By God I hope so. And I'm sure he is, only…"

"Only what?" Cheryl's voice had taken a darker tone.

Lorcan took a deep breath, terrified as to what her next words would do. "I called the farm and they said that Jason never made it there."

Cheryl gasped and started backwards, pulling herself out of Lorcan's grip.

"But," Lorcan continued hastily. "That doesn't mean that he's not okay. Maybe he's strapped for cash or he found a job and a nicer place to live or- or- "

"Or he's dead." Cheryl's voice was despondent now. After a moment, though, she then turned to look at Lorcan with blazing eyes.

"Don't say that," Lorcan muttered quietly, looking down and running a hand through her hair.

Cheryl took a menacing step towards her. " _You_ were supposed to get him out of Riverdale safely. So, if anything _has_ happened to him, it is _your_ (she punctuated this with a sharp jab against Lorcan's chest) fault."

With that Cheryl stormed out of the classroom, slamming the door behind her. Lorcan winced at the loud noise and remained standing in the middle of that classroom, not trying to stifle her tears anymore.

Little did she know, that things were about to get a whole lot worse.


	2. take a walk on the wild side

Lorcan only felt marginally better when she swung open the door to the Whyte Wyrm that evening. Coming home always made her something within her feel at ease though, so her spirits were immediately lifted somewhat the moment she stepped into the rowdy bar. Here, she was known. But better than that. She was respected. Cared for.

The South Side was where she _belonged_. And the longer she spent on the North Side, the truer that statement felt.

Lorcan made a beeline towards the bar itself and smiled when she saw a familiar face serving drinks. "Hey Topaz," she greeted, pulling herself onto a barstool in front of one of her oldest friends.

Toni's face lit up when she saw Lorcan. "Hey!" Then, at the redness around Lorcan's eyes, "Rough day?"

Lorcan snorted. "You have no idea."

"Would a drink help with that?" Toni hinted, gesturing playfully at the assortment of bottles behind her.

Lorcan looked at them almost wistfully for a second before shaking her head. "Irene would literally skin me alive."

"Well, well, well. Looks like a North Sider's stumbled onto the wrong side of the tracks." A deep voice filled the air and made Lorcan stiffen. Toni looked up, brow raised at the intruder.

Lorcan swung off the barstool and stood glaring at the source of the voice; an incredibly tall dark-haired boy with a leather jacket which she knew for a fact had the Serpents logo branded across the back. "You wanna say that to my _face_?" she challenged, arms crossed across her chest and pulling her most threatening expression, face like stone.

The boy in question smirked, glaring equally as fiercely back at her, shoulders squared as if he was preparing for action. The two stood for a few moments glowering at each other, as though they were both challenging the other to something, daring the other to break first. The whole bar seemed to quieten down the longer the two faced off, as though everyone had turned to watch.

In the end they both broke at the same time.

They lurched towards each other, his arms around her waist and hers around his neck as he picked her up in a tight hug, spinning her round slightly and causing her to shriek out a laugh.

"Hey Fireball," Sweet Pea murmured in her ear.

"Good to see you, Sweets," she murmured, inhaling deeply the scent of leather and something fresher that she only associated with Sweet Pea. God, she had missed him. She pulled away slightly to look in his face, his arms keeping her at his height and they both smiled like loons at each other. Lorcan leaned her forehead against his, eyes closing involuntarily as she just wallowed in the moment. It had been _too_ long.

They let go eventually and sat down next to each other at the bar, turning to Toni with a smile but she was just looking at them like they were the strangest people she knew. Which they kinda were.

"Why don't I get a greeting like that?" she drawled, picking up a glass to dry it with an unimpressed look on her face.

" _What_?" Lorcan squawked, standing as if outraged. "Hey, you know what? I _will_ climb over this bar and hug you if you so desire. Sweets," she gently slapped his shoulder, "give me a boost. I _will_ do it Topaz. Don't test me."

Sweet Pea offered his hands as a boost, wide smirk plastered over his face, and Lorcan was genuinely half way up and nearly over the bar, arms outstretched for a hug, when Toni pushed her away with a laugh.

"Or," she chuckled. "You could have just pulled this open, you freak." She pulled up the part of the bar that acted as a door and walked through it, pulling a 'ta-da' like motion when she was through it. Lorcan, frozen with one foot still in the cradle of Sweet Pea's hands and hands bracing herself on the bar, blinked.

"Yeah, okay," she grumbled, pulling her foot off of Sweet Pea's hands and putting both hands on her hips. "I was showing devotion. And if you don't appreciate that –"

"Oh, shut up," Toni demanded softly, pulling Lorcan into a tight hug. Lorcan immediately quietened and wrapped her arms around Toni, head dropping into the crook of her shoulder. "We've missed you, idiot."

Lorcan sniffed, pulling away and dropping back into her seat. "Yeah, I missed you guys too." She put her hand on Sweet Pea's knee and he took it, squeezing it gently and mustering a "She's not lying" look.

"Although," Toni continued, now back behind the bar with both hands on it, leaning towards her two friends, " _his_ greeting _was_ better than mine."

"Wow," Lorcan leaned back, sighing in mock-disappointment. "Well, I gotta be honest. I just like him more than I like you." She smirked impishly at Toni, throwing her hands up in a matter of fact surrender.

"Ah- _ha_!" Sweet Pea pointed victoriously at Toni. "I knew it."

"Yeah, dude, we _all_ knew that." Another familiar male voice filled Lorcan's ears and she turned, a grin on her face, to see Fangs Fogarty drop onto the bar stool on her left.

"Fangs," she greeted, slapping his shoulder lightly.

"Hey, L," Fangs smiled, ruffling her hair playfully. She pushed his hand away, eyes narrowed in a mock threat, but the teasing smile ensured there was no heat to it.

"Although," Lorcan started, turning back to the previous conversation, and pointing a finger at Sweet Pea with a real threat attached, "You ever call me a North Sider again and you see how quickly you lose favorite person status."

Sweet Pea held up his hands in surrender. "My bad. Of course my Fireball could never be a North Sider."

" _Our_ ," Toni emphasised, pointing her dish towel in Sweet Pea's direction.

Sweet Pea inclined his head in agreement but winked teasingly at Lorcan, causing a slight flush to appear on her cheeks. Then he caught sight of her red rimmed eyes and his face dropped, mood completely serious now.

"You been crying, Lo?" he asked quietly, rubbing his thumb gently beneath her right eye.

"What? No," Lorcan softly pushed his hand away, ducking her head. "It's just allergies."

"You're not allergic to anything," Sweet Pea's voice was like steel. "Who made you cry?" He stood and, towering above her, Lorcan couldn't help but feel her heart swell a little at how quickly he was willing to go to war for her.

"No, Pea, it's nothing," she stood too, grabbing his arms and pulling him back down on to his stool. He did so reluctantly but his face was still wary, rage simmering in his eyes. "I just had a bad day, that's all. No one needs you to pay them a little visit okay? _Okay_ , Pea?"

He grudgingly nodded. "If you're sure, Lo," he rumbled.

"You too Fangs," Lorcan warned, barely looking behind her to see the grumbling figure drop back into his seat. "None of you guys need to start a _war_ with the North Side, m-kay?" At the threatening look in her eyes, they all acquiesced, even Toni who just help up her hands in surrender and muttered, "Hey, I'm just serving drinks."

"So, what's with the tame outfit?" Fangs started, beginning to feel ill at ease in the silence that had descended upon them.

Lorcan looked down at her clothes with a start, as if having forgotten what she was wearing. Instead of the ripped jeans, cropped shirt, boots and leather jacket she would have worn back home, she found herself in a loose gray sweater, black skinny jeans that basically looked gray, they were so worn, a denim jacket and Converse. No leather jacket in sight. Nothing that _screamed_ 'South Side' in sight. At least her chokers and dark make-up remained. That was one part of Lorcan that Irene, no matter how hard she tried, could not remove. (The choker, as Kevin would have said, was _iconic_.)

"Oh," Lorcan pulled at the sweater with a sigh. It was something she would have worn on her lazy days on the South Side. Not in public. That wasn't who she was. She _liked_ to make an effort. She liked fitting in with these people. They _were_ her people. "Irene."

"The cursed aunt," Fangs lamented.

"That's her alright."

"She the reason we haven't seen you in three weeks?" Sweat Pea asked quietly.

Lorcan looked at him, seeing him hunched over slightly, but he refused to look her in the eye. "Yes. You think I would've stayed away by _choice_?"

Sweet Pea shrugged.

"Pea?"

"Of course he doesn't," Toni interjected. " _Right?"_ She gave him a very pointed look.

Sweet Pea looked at her. "Course not." His voice was gruff but Lorcan still looked at him with something resembling despair. He really thought that of her?

"Lorcan?"

The three were interrupted by a male voice and looked round to see FP Jones standing by a snooker table, cue in hand and looking at her with a mix between disapproval and relief. Lorcan groaned and slid off the stool, grudgingly making her way over to her uncle.

"What're you doing here, kid?" FP scolded, the cue having been put down and his hands now on his hips.

"Seeing my friends," Lorcan shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. She loved FP, she did, but a scolding from him was really not what she needed right now. Tall Boy was standing over FP's shoulder and Lorcan shot him a sarcastic wave, to which he scowled.

"Really? You wanna piss off Irene?"

"What, you scared of her?" Lorcan scoffed.

FP sighed. "Lorcan."

"FP," his niece mocked.

"Go home," he commanded.

"What? No," Lorcan objected.

FP looked at her almost helplessly, knowing she wouldn't back down.

"Why do you want me gone so bad?"

"I don't," her uncle admitted quietly. "I love having you 'round here." As much as he wanted to keep the children in his life safe from the Serpent way of life, FP knew that Lorcan was at her happiest there. The Serpents were her family, perhaps even more so than her blood one. Well, parts of her blood family at least. He gestured her to come with him, placing a hand at her back and directing her towards a table.

Lorcan sat down with a huff, convinced he was going to continue berating her but, to her surprise, upon sitting FP only asked, "How's your mom?" He leaned across the table towards her, whilst Lorcan leaned back in the chair, fiddling with her choker.

She exhaled. "She's been better." That was the diplomatic answer. In truth, she didn't know how her mother really was. Having shut herself away for the almost entire eight months that her husband had been dead, Lorcan hadn't seen her mother for less than a few snatches of minutes every here and there. She was convinced that Irene had something to do with this but, despite the vastness of the house, Irene almost always caught Lorcan whenever she tried to sneak into the suite her mother was staying in. _Your mother is grieving. She needs her space_ , was the answer she always got. Well, Lorcan was grieving too. And she wasn't being locked up like the mad wife in the attic. "How're you doing?"

She sometimes forgot that the day she had lost a dad, FP had lost a younger brother.

"Don't worry about me, kid," FP smiled sadly, patting her shoulder gently. "How 'bout Jet? Waverly?"

"They're fine, I guess." The one thing Irene or grief hadn't been able to take from her siblings was their infectious energy and Jet and Waverly were still as rambunctious as the day they had been born.

"That's good. And you?" FP looked at her with a raised eyebrow and Lorcan knew there would be no lying to him.

"It's been a rough summer FP." She wanted to tell him about Jason, wanted to get it all off her chest to someone that wasn't Cheryl and that wouldn't judge her. FP could help, right? He had contacts, he could help _find_ Jason. Then maybe she wouldn't feel so damn guilty. She had just opened her mouth when her phone started vibrating. Lorcan pulled the phone out of her jacket pocket and groaned when she saw the screen. It was a text. From Irene.

 _Get home. Now. You have a visitor._

"Crap," she sighed and pushed the phone back into the pocket.

"Important?"

Lorcan huffed irritably, running a hand through her loose hair. "Only the frigging Queen."

The phone vibrated again.

"I think you should do as she says," FP said pointedly, watching as Lorcan pulled the phone back out and made a face at the screen.

 _NOW Lorcan._

She stood, rolling her eyes at her uncle. "You _are_ scared of her." FP only pulled an innocent grin, standing too, but Lorcan missed the saddened glint in his eyes. Of course he was scared of her…

"Sweet Pea," he called, and said teen looked up from where he was still sitting with Fangs at the bar. "Get over here."

Lorcan looked distractedly at her phone as the boy made his way over.

"Give Lorcan a ride home. The She-Devil calls," FP ordered and Sweet Pea looked reluctantly at Lorcan but nodded _._ Lorcan sadly wondered why the atmosphere had become so tense as soon as she and Sweet Pea had to stand together. A small part of her brain whispered, _when he started believing you no longer cared about him_ , and she frowned.

"Sure," he acquiesced. Then he looked at her and a mischievous glint entered his eye. "Anything for North Side royalty."

Lorcan looked up in outrage, gaping at him.

And things were suddenly back to normal.

"I'll see you later," she muttered to FP, giving him a quick side hug before beginning to stride out of the Whyte Wyrm, calling out a farewell to Fangs and Toni on the way. Sweet Pea followed, nearly crashing into her when FP's voice caused Lorcan to halt suddenly. She looked questioningly back at her uncle.

"How's Jughead?" The tone of the question made it seem like FP was only asking as a formality but Lorcan knew how deeply he cared for his boy.

She looked at him sadly. "You gotta ask him yourself, FP. You have to talk to him sometime."

FP nodded sadly and Lorcan turned to leave again, realising that now Sweet Pea was in front of her and taking the opportunity to slap him harshly on the back.

"Ow!" he yelped. "What the hell was that for?" He looked back at her, rubbing his back, with wide eyes.

"I _told_ you not to call me a North Sider," Lorcan explained lightly. "It's your own fault." With that, she breezed past him and out of the bar.

Sweet Pea watched her go, still clutching at the sore part of his back, with something resembling amazement on his face. After a second, he shook his head fondly and followed her out.

FP watched the encounter between the two with fondness in his eyes. He shook his head and, turning back towards the pool table, muttered, "Kids."

Tall Boy looked at him questioningly.

"They're crazy for each other," FP explained, as though it was obvious. "They'll figure it out eventually."

Tall Boy sighed. "Oh good," he muttered dryly and turned back to the game.

* * *

Lorcan never felt so free as when she was on a motorcycle and the ride back into Astor territory was honestly one of the best parts of her week. Sadly, it was over too soon and she felt like she had only just got on the bike when Sweet Pea was pulling up as far away as was necessary so as to keep safe from the wrath of Irene Astor. She reluctantly released her grip from Sweet Pea's waist and climbed off the bike, looking over the hedge at the Astor house with a deep sigh. Sweet Pea, still perched on the bike, looked at her with concern.

"I didn't really think that you didn't want to see us," he admitted quietly and Lorcan looked at him with a frown, looking to see the trace of a lie in his features. "It's just, after so long without seeing you, I started to get these doubts. I don't believe them."

She eventually nodded. "I wouldn't blame you if you did. I'm sorry I made you doubt me. But honestly Pea, getting out of this house is like escaping Alcatraz. I would _never_ leave you guys willingly. I need you to know that."

"She's really that bad?" Lorcan shrugged. "You want me to talk to her?"

She grinned. "There's no need. She'd take one look at you and point a crucifix in your face or something."

Sweet Pea snorted. "Sounds like a real terror."

Lorcan came and stood right in front of him and, with him sitting on the bike, was only a little taller than him. "I really do miss you guys," she murmured, taking his hand.

Sweet Pea squeezed it. "We miss you like hell, Lo."

She looked down at their joined hands sadly. Who knows when she'd be able to have this again? (It would actually be a lot sooner than she thought, but a tragedy was needed first.)

She then looked back at the house. The two parts of her life. Her mother's family. Her family.

God, she really didn't want to go back into that house. It would be so easy to get on the back of this bike and ask Sweet Pea to get her the hell out of there. Out of Riverdale maybe.

But she couldn't leave them. Not her mom. Not Jet and Waverly. They needed her. And she'd be damned if she let Irene twist them into North Siders. Into people they weren't.

"I miss my dad," she exhaled quietly. "He didn't let Irene walk all over Mom. And I'm trying, but I can't do it. I'm not strong enough to say no to her. I'm constantly terrified of doing something she disapproves of but that's just her messing with my head. What if, one day I wake up and I'm this perfect student who starts cheerleading and volunteering? What if I start acting like a North Sider, Pea? I can't become that, and I'm terrified she's gonna make me into it." Her voice had taken on a panicked tone and Sweet Pea had to grab her other hand, pulling her closer to him.

"Lo, look at me," he commanded. " _Look at me_."

Lorcan did as he asked, her breathing slowing the longer she looked at him.

"That's not gonna happen." He sounded so sure. "I know you. You're strong. You don't let people walk over you, and you _know_ who you are. Irene can't change that."

Lorcan nodded. "You're right." He believed in her. That meant a lot to her. She took a deep breath, casting another look at the house. "Okay. Time to go back to the mad house."

Sweet Pea let go of her hands. "Good luck."

"I'll need it," she grumbled. Then she leant forward and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. "Thanks for the ride."

Sweet Pea smiled. "Knock 'em dead, Fireball," he winked.

Lorcan gave him a thumbs-up, before she reluctantly took a step backwards, casting Sweet Pea a wan smile before making a sharp turn and striding towards the drive up to the house. She didn't see him press a hand to his cheek, on the exact spot where her lips had been a moment previous, and neither did she see the slight flush of his cheeks. Sweet Pea cast one look at the Astor house and muttered, "You better be good to her," before speeding off, back to the South Side.

Lorcan didn't know then that the next time she would see Sweet Pea would be after tragedy had struck.

* * *

Her aunt's house was excessively large. Well, it was technically the Astor family _mansion_ of much the same ilk as Thornhill, with both her aunt and her mother having been due to inherit it upon the death of their parents. When her mother had absconded with a Serpent, however, her parents had disowned her and, whilst still alive and now having had retired to Florida, they refused to allow her back into their will. Therefore, the house was technically nothing to do with Lorcan – something she had brought up to FP when her mother had decided to move into it. Irene constantly held it over them that they were only there out of the kindness of her heart, to which Lorcan replied that true kindness would be allowing her to stay on the South Side. Irene had ignored that, as she tended to ignore most things she didn't agree with.

Lorcan pushed open the door to the entry-hall to find her aunt sitting in a rather sinister manner in the armchair in front of the fire at the far end of the hall.

Irene immediately stood up the moment Lorcan entered the house and stalked towards her. Her face was eerily calm and Lorcan knew then that she was in for a storm.

"And where have you been?" Irene's voice was cool but Lorcan wasn't fooled by it.

"Out," she answered airily, taking off her jacket and folding it over her arm.

"Out where?"

"Walking."

"Don't be pedantic, Lorcan," her aunt tutted and Lorcan rolled her eyes.

"I went for a walk through the woods, okay? Happy?"

"Not particularly."

"Well, Irene, there's not much I can do about that. I can't go back in time." _Because if I did my dad would be alive and I wouldn't be in this hell._

Irene gave her a forced smile. "Your guest is in your room." She then turned and strode into the bowels of the house.

"Who is it?" Lorcan called.

"Find out for yourself."

Lorcan rolled her eyes, glancing at the ornate wooden staircase and preparing herself to climb it.

'Room' was an understatement as each member of the Jones family was presented with a small wing of the house, consisting of a bedroom, small living room and ensuite. The result, Lorcan felt, was feeling isolated from the rest of her family. Five of them had once lived in a space of much the same size and now she wandered the house and felt like she could go for days without seeing another human being. Sometimes, she darkly thought that if she died, it would take days for someone to find her.

But then, Irene was so obsessed with her whereabouts that maybe it wouldn't take that long. But, it would be just as easy for Irene to kill her and people to not find the body…

Lorcan shook her head and pushed open the door that led to her wing. Her visitor was sitting primly on her bed, flicking through a book, long legs crossed.

Cheryl Blossom.


	3. the lunatics have taken over the asylum

Lorcan stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of the red-headed girl on her bed. "Cheryl?"

Cheryl looked up from the book and smiled, closing it and throwing it gently onto the bed beside her. It was Lorcan's copy of the Grimm Fairy Tales. "Lorcan," she greeted.

"What are you doing here?" Lorcan asked in confusion, walking into the room and looking around with caution, as though she was expecting people to jump out on her, maybe shove a bag over her head and drag her out kicking and screaming.

"Don't make me say it," Cheryl grimaced, standing and smoothing down her skirt.

"Say what?" Lorcan continued, scanning the room to see anything out of place. "Have you been snooping?"

" _Of course_ I haven't," Cheryl sounded offended at the mere thought. "Although," and she reached behind her on the bed, picking up two items that Lorcan hadn't seen when she came in and held them up one at a time with disapproval on her face, "Why do you have a switchblade under your pillow?"

Lorcan jumped forward and snatched the blade from the girl. "That's none of your business," she grumbled, stowing it hastily in her jean pocket.

"And the money?" Cheryl continued, holding up the few notes but holding them out of reach when Lorcan tried to snatch them too. "Why do you still have that?"

Lorcan breathed out heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Because I changed my mind. I don't want it."

Cheryl's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean you don't want it?" Her voice was demanding. "Jason and I gave you that as part of our _deal_. Does this mean that you didn't carry out your part of it? Is _that_ why you've suddenly changed your mind? You feel guilty? Is that why Jason didn't reach the farm?"

She had been getting closer and closer to Lorcan as she continued speaking, her voice getting more and more dangerous, until she was nearly nose to nose with the dark-haired girl. To her credit, Lorcan didn't flinch. She remembered Sweet Pea's words. _You don't let people walk over you._

"No." Her voice was firm. "I changed my mind because I don't feel right taking money from you. _That isn't who I am_. I helped you because I wanted to. I saw a boy desperate to get out of a rough situation and I saw myself in him. I can't get out of my situation yet but Jason could. So I helped him. That money, sure it would help, but I don't _need_ it. So you keep it, Cheryl, _please._ "

Cheryl looked shaken by Lorcan's list of admissions. After a moment's silence, she finally uttered a single syllable. "No."

Lorcan blinked. "No?" She gaped silently for a second or two. "Why?"

"That money was part of our deal. You upheld your part, so I'll uphold mine. Keep it."

Cheryl held out the money, $100, and Lorcan looked at it. She was torn. She wanted it because it could help them get home, get away from Irene. Her job at the car repair shop was shaky and wasn't raising enough money; she had to be discreet with the hours she worked so Irene wouldn't find out. And, whilst the owner was a Serpent, the fact that Ghoulies loved their cars meant some of them just loved to invade the premises; it was risky business to be around when they did. Handlebar was an old friend of her dad's so he had kept her on after his death as a kindness and she _was_ a good worker. But it simply wasn't _enough._

Lorcan took the money with shaky hands. She had no idea the consequences that action would bring her.

"What do you need it for, anyway?"

Lorcan scrutinised Cheryl. Could she trust her? She knew what Sweet Pea would say – _Hell no! She's a North Sider. You can't trust them!_ – but Sweet Pea didn't know that she'd already had dealings with Cheryl. She was already trusting her not to say anything to the police.

But Cheryl was trusting that she would do the same.

Then again, what would Cheryl have to gain from the information Lorcan could give her? She couldn't get rid of the trailer: she had no power on the Council. Cheryl might even be glad of it, a family of South Siders returning to where they belonged.

Truth was, Lorcan needed that money to get their old home back. When HC had died, the Council had repossessed the trailer. Her mother had lost her job as a teacher at the High School and decided to move in with her sister – although Lorcan had no doubt that Irene had preyed upon her sister's vulnerable state to manipulate her into such a decision. The Serpents had tried to help them, they really did, but her mother had stopped them. Truth be told, her mother had blamed the Serpents for what had happened to her husband at first and wanted nothing to do with them, had outright refused their help. Lorcan didn't know that Irene had planted that seed and kept cultivating it even now. All she knew was that the Council needed a deposit of money and proof of someone being able to pay the rent – or even buy it eventually – in order to allow the Jones family to go home. And Lorcan was determined to do that. Irene would never help and Lorcan, quite frankly, didn't want her help. She wanted to do this on her own, for _her family_. She _had_ to.

Lorcan continued to weigh up the options but it all boiled down to one thing: did she trust Cheryl?

"It's nothing illegal," she finally settled on, pushing the notes into her other pocket. "Sorry to disappoint, but this isn't my drug money. It's for my family. And that," she tried to direct Cheryl out of the door, "Is all you need to know."

Cheryl looked disappointed but didn't push the matter. She did, however, object to Lorcan's not so subtle attempts to make her leave, and instead directed herself towards the girl's closet.

"What are you doing?" Lorcan whined. Then frowned. "Hang on, you never answered my question as to what you were doing here in the first place. _Cheryl_?"

The red-headed girl had heaved open the door and seemed incredibly disappointed as to what she found: an endless collection of plaid shirts, bralettes, ripped and distressed jeans and shorts. Lorcan's Serpent clothes. She praised her lucky stars that she had hidden her Serpents jacket somewhere neither Cheryl or Irene would find it. It was bad enough that, on her first day at Riverdale High, her locker had been spray painted with 'Serpent Spawn': she didn't need Cheryl to know she was a fully-fledged member and for it to get out to the entire North Side population. There was also Lorcan's 'North Side' attire; much of what she was wearing today with variations in the colour. Irene had tried to take her shopping but it had been a very silent trip so the woman had gone out on her own and bought Lorcan some clothes; mainly sweatshirts and cutesy shirts. Things Betty Cooper would wear, not Lorcan. And yet she had no choice: any attempt to leave through the front door in anything resembling South Side was met with a stern "No," and demand to change. _This_ was her life now.

But no, Lorcan reminded herself. Sweet Pea was right. She had to start standing up to Irene, and her first port of call was the clothes.

Cheryl turned to her with a sigh, hands on her hips. "I am here," she took a deep breath, as though her next words were going to cause her pain, "to apologise."

"You're what?" Lorcan spluttered.

Cheryl rolled her eyes. "You heard me baby snake. I'm sorry for the way I was at school today. If something _has_ happened to Jason, it's not your fault. It was wrong of me to say so."

Lorcan nodded slowly. "Thank you, Cheryl."

Cheryl nodded, satisfied, and turned back to the closet. "Now, there must be something in here that you can wear to the dance tonight."

Lorcan had almost forgotten about that. "I'm not going, Cheryl."

"Yes, you are," Cheryl stated, glancing imperiously over her shoulder at Lorcan.

Lorcan huffed. "No."

"Yes."

" _No."_

 _"Yes."_

Lorcan gritted her teeth, closing her eyes to compose herself. This was a battle of resilience and it was difficult to say who out of her and Cheryl was the most stubborn. _You don't let people walk over you,_ Sweet Pea had said. Well he hadn't met Cheryl Blossom…Lorcan put one hand on her hip and the other on her forehead, knowing that she was about to make a decision she'd regret.

"Fine," she conceded. Cheryl shot her a bright, victorious grin. " _But_ ," Lorcan stressed, "I choose my outfit and I choose how long I stay, even if that is only five minutes."

Cheryl fully turned to look at her, making as if to object, but Lorcan stopped her by holding up her hand.

"Those are my terms. Take them or leave them."

Cheryl considered her, sucking in her cheeks slightly as she thought. Finally, she gave a short perfunctory nod and made towards the door.

"I'll see you there."

* * *

Irene tried not to slam the door to her office as she stalked in, breathing deeply. That _girl_ …

She sighed, catching note of the pile of unanswered correspondence on her desk. Her 'associates' were getting too demanding. Irene rubbed her forehead distractedly, flopping down into her desk chair and leaning back to stare at the ceiling. Lorcan was becoming too much of a liability.

"' _Walking',"_ Irene scoffed. She knew the girl had been at the Whyte Wyrm – her contacts had seen her there. _And_ talking to FP. Irene shook her head in disappointment; she had really hoped her conversation with the man had set him straight.

These children were _Astors_ now. Did FP just not _get_ that?

The shrill note of the phone shook her out of her reverie and back into the present. Irene glanced at it, knowing that it wouldn't be good news. Steeling herself, she picked up the phone and held it to her ear.

"Irene Astor?" Her voice was strong, although she could feel her will beginning to crumble. _No. It was all done for a good reason._

"Now sugar. We had an agreement, didn't we? Time to come through on that."

Irene's eyes closed in defeat.

* * *

Lorcan stood in front of her full-length mirror, staring at herself with equal parts glee and terror. She'd gone _full_ South-Side with this outfit. Irene would definitely try to kill her; Lorcan could practically see her aunt coming at her with a steak knife already. The tight-fitting black lace dress thankfully covered her Serpent tattoo though so at least Irene wouldn't have complete incentive to commit murder. As it was, Lorcan's dress brushed her mid-thigh and was strapless, although only a one piece. If not, her tattoo would _definitely_ be on show. Paired with black strappy heels, a choker necklace with a moon pendant, and a leather jacket sans Serpents marking, Lorcan was beginning to feel more like herself. Like she was going out with Pea, Toni and Fangs, not to the Riverdale High dance.

Lorcan shot her reflection a rueful grin, swept a hand through her hair which she'd lightly curled and left loose, and turned to leave. She looked down at her phone as she went to put it in her pocket and frowned. Irene had bought this phone and, just like with most of the things Irene had bought her, she always felt uneasy using it. Like the woman could have tampered with it somehow-

Lorcan shook her head and shoved the phone into the pocket of her jacket, making a mental note to see Handlebar about getting another phone just in case, before striding out of the room. One check back to make sure the window was propped open in case Jughead needed to get in and Lorcan made her way to the main staircase, ready to face the music.

She noted, somewhat with happiness, that she had missed the difference between walking in heels and in sneakers. In these shoes she felt powerful, like she could take on the world (and then rolled her eyes at herself for having such a cliché thought). Regardless, these shoes were just another part of her past that Irene had tried to replace with her own. Lorcan was sure that the woman would love nothing more than to wipe Lorcan's memory of her life before she had moved into Astor Mansion and then remake her into a mini version of herself.

Shaking her head with a slight grin, Lorcan continued making her way down the stairs, only to halt right at the bottom. An unimpressed Irene stood at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed over her chest and an eyebrow raised in a 'do you think you can really get away with this?' look.

Lorcan attempted to breeze past her but Irene continuously blocked her. "And where do you think you're going?"

"School dance," Lorcan smiled sweetly.

Irene, although looking slightly shocked at the admission that Lorcan was actually getting involved in a Northside activity, scoffed. "Not dressed like that you're not."

"Why not?" Lorcan countered. "I'm not showing anything indecent. Look: boobs, covered. Ass cheeks, covered." She gestured to each body part as she mentioned it.

Irene's face was like stone. "Change."

"Can't," Lorcan's voice took on a miserable quality. "You never bought me any Irene-approved dresses." She grimaced, making a 'what can you do' gesture with her hands. "And you _want_ me to go to this dance, don't you? I thought you _wanted_ me to get involved with school activities?"

Irene still didn't budge but Lorcan could see that she knew she had been defeated. "At least put on some pantyhose."

Lorcan sighed, looking at her aunt despairingly. Thankfully she was interrupted by a thin voice from higher up on the stairs.

"Let her go, Irene."

Both women looked up in shock to see the lithe figure of Maria Astor looking down at them, leaning over the bannister.

"Mom?" Lorcan's voice cracked slightly. She hadn't seen the woman in over a week, easily, and the very sight of her mother made her realise how much she had missed her.

"Maria, go back to bed," Irene commanded, beginning to make her way towards her younger sister.

"Irene, stop." Her mother's voice was stronger than it had been in a long time, Lorcan noted. The accompanying hand Maria held up halted her sister in her tracks. Irene looked at her with something resembling confusion marring her classically beautiful features. Both sisters had the same tanned complexion, and dark hair. Whilst Maria was tall and lithe, Irene was shorter, like Lorcan. Irene also had much lighter eyes, taking after their mother, whilst Maria's were darker yet undoubtedly warmer. Irene's shrewd and calculating character had manifested itself into her cold agate eyes it seemed.

"How do you feel, mom?" Lorcan practically whispered, still almost in awe at the fact her mother had actually come out of her wing. Maria smiled tiredly at her but the kindness shining from her features made Lorcan feel more at ease. Her mother seemed to do everything with an element of fatigue these days; it was as if the mere fact of her existence tired her out now.

"Better for seeing you, sweetheart," her mother complimented, eyes flitting over her eldest child's form. "You look beautiful."

Lorcan smiled, blinking away tears she hadn't known were building up. "Thanks."

Irene scoffed. "She looks like a harlot."

Both women turned to her in outrage. Lorcan's mouth opened to spit out a sharp comment but her mother beat her to it. "She looks _beautiful_."

Maria shot her sister an imperious look, as if daring her to contradict her again. Irene's mouth reluctantly shut and she glanced over at Lorcan, rolling her eyes.

"Now, darling," Maria continued, making her way slowly down the stairs, but she didn't need to cling to the bannister which was a good sign in Lorcan's book. "You enjoy yourself at the dance. And I'm sure Irene would be only too happy to give you a ride there." After a pointed look at Irene, who nodded grudgingly, she moved to stand in front of her daughter, reaching out to carefully brush a stray hair out of Lorcan's face.

Lorcan shot a smug look at Irene and grinned at her mother. "Thanks mom." Both women hugged, Lorcan inhaling the unmistakable scent of her mother and breathing deeply. She honestly couldn't have felt much happier than she did in that moment.

She couldn't have known what would come later on that night.


	4. stairway to heaven

Walking into the gymnasium was actually a far more daunting task than Lorcan had initially imagined. She had not been the most social person since transferring schools, seeing as she longed so desperately for the company of her old one, and had tended to avoid any large gatherings if she knew Jughead would also be absent. Her cousin had in some ways become her social crutch which, considering Jughead's antisocial tendencies, was almost laughable.

Regardless, Lorcan walked into that gym with her head held high and smiled whilst doing so. She _would_ enjoy herself, of that she was determined.

A picture of Jason greeted her as she pushed through the curtains into the gymnasium, almost threatening to wipe the smile off her face. Lorcan paused, taking a deep breath as she stared at the photo.

She nearly reached out to touch his face but refrained and swallowed loudly. _Sorry, buddy_.

Then she moved on, eyes roving over the room as she did so.

Tributes to Jason were all over the place and the lump in Lorcan's throat gradually disappeared the longer she looked.

Cheryl saw her first and her eyes initially narrowed as she scrutinised the brunette's attire but, eventually, her face came to rest in an expression of quiet approval. The redhead gave her a satisfied nod and Lorcan threw her a thumbs-up, a sarcastic grin plastered on her face, secretly feeling somewhat proud of herself for pleasing the girl.

Hearing voices behind her, she glanced back to see Archie Andrews walk in, a girl on each arm. On closer inspection, those girls were none other than Veronica Lodge and…was that Betty Cooper? Lorcan snorted – _did Andrews have_ game? – and shook her head, deciding to make a beeline for the punch which she hoped above hope had been spiked.

She was ladling herself a cup when a feminine voice asked, "Please tell me there's alcohol in this?"

Lorcan looked over to see Veronica standing next to her, a catlike grin on her face. She resisted the urge to frown, merely replacing the ladle in the bowl and commenting, "God, I hope so," in what she hoped was a friendly tone.

It seemed to do the trick as Veronica let out a laugh that sounded like chimes. "You here with anyone?" She moved to pour herself a cup.

Lorcan, taking a sip and settling with her back against the table, shook her head. "Did I see _you_ with Andrews and Cooper?"

Veronica let out a teasing sigh. "Sweet Betty couldn't find the courage to get Archiekins on his own. I am the unwilling third wheel here."

Lorcan nodded, looking past Veronica to the figures of Betty and Archie who were making their way to the dance-floor. "You think she'll tell him how she feels?" The question came out unbidden and Lorcan frowned, not knowing when she had become even remotely invested in North Side teen drama.

"I hope so," Veronica smiled. The two stood in companionable silence for a while, before Lorcan noticed Veronica's eyes on her and grew uncomfortable.

"What?" she asked, smoothing her hair as the girl's gaze made her feel self-conscious.

"Nothing." At Lorcan's disbelieving look she grimaced. "That comment Cheryl made about the snake earlier. What did she mean?"

Lorcan's eyes fell closed and she rubbed at her forehead. Turning to place her cup on the table, she took a deep breath. "Okay. You really wanna know?"

Veronica nodded.

"Before you, I was the new girl. I moved from the South Side and there's a gang there called the Serpents," Lorcan explained. "My dad was one."

"Was?"

"Yeah," Lorcan swallowed, eyes darting across the dancing couples on the dancefloor, noting that the redhead of Archie Andrews had disappeared. "He died."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Veronica floundered but Lorcan waved her away.

"Don't; it's not your fault. Anyway, when I first came here, people called me Serpent Spawn, so, yeah. The whole snake comment."

Veronica nodded in understanding, then moved to open her clutch. "Seeing as the punch is so woefully lacking, do you want some?" She gestured down at the flask she was hiding discreetly in the purse.

Lorcan grinned. "Please." As she took a sip she caught sight of Andrew sitting next to Miss Grundy just a few feet away from where she and Veronica were standing. They seemed to be having an intense conversation. Lorcan's eyes narrowed and she was about to make a comment when Veronica asked,

"So apart from that, how do you find the North Side?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah it's good. Apart from _some_ "- her eyes found Reggie Mantle and his friends – "of the people, it's okay. It's a nice change to come to a school with working bathrooms and actual textbooks you know?" Then she realised Veronica _didn't_ know because she had never had that problem, coming from a school _way_ more privileged than Riverdale High, let alone South Side High. Regardless, Veronica smiled warmly and Lorcan's returned one was not as fake as it had been earlier in the day. Perhaps the girl wasn't _so_ bad.

Kevin Keller then decided to make his appearance, making a beeline towards Veronica as he hissed, "I have just had an _experience_ , let me tell you. I was in the ba– oh, hey." He caught sight of Lorcan and suddenly halted, eyes widening.

Lorcan scoffed. "Cool it Keller, I'm just leaving." She made to go when Veronica's voice stopped her.

"No, stay," she called, somewhat imperiously. "Kevin, I'm sure your drama can be shared with Lorcan here. She can be trusted, right?"

Kevin looked unsure, eyes darting between Veronica and Lorcan, but he eventually acquiesced. "Sure."

"Who would I tell?" Lorcan added flippantly.

"So," Kevin launched into his tale. "I was in the bathroom with a certain jock, named, would you believe it, _Moose_ ," he looked more at Lorcan than Veronica, as she actually knew who he was talking about. "And let me tell you, a certain appendage of his is more horselike, if you catch my drift."

"Wow," Lorcan muttered, "Moose is into dudes. Who knew?"

"Right!" Kevin exclaimed.

"Ooh, juicy," Veronica grinned. "I love an 'in the closet' tale of hidden romance. So scandalous."

Lorcan raised her eyebrows, shaking her head slightly. "Good for you, Kevin," she smiled.

"Yes, good for you. Now, if you'll excuse us Lorcan, I want to dance and Kevin, you are the only male I want to dance _with_. Plus, we need to keep an eye on Betty." Veronica pointed commandingly at Kevin, who nodded in understanding. They looked questioningly at Lorcan, as though asking her permission to leave.

"No, go for it," Lorcan gestured for them to go ahead and watched as Veronica pulled Kevin to the dance-floor with an almost fond look on her face. Who knew she could have an actual interaction with people at this school that _wasn't_ barbed with venomous remarks about her heritage?

"Good evening, friends," the voice of Cheryl Blossom came over the speakers. "Are you all having a good time?"

Cheers were the response she got. Lorcan found herself agreeing, letting a small pointed 'whoo!' when she saw Cheryl look in her direction from her position on the stage.

"As honorary chairperson and de facto queen of tonight's semi-formal it is my pleasure to introduce this evening's main entertainment. To know them is to be obsessed with them. Though they usually perform their own material, tonight they're making an exception and debuting a cover of the song my parents claimed they were listening to the night Jason and I were conceived. This one's for you, JJ."

Lorcan swallowed, not knowing if it was a good idea for her to stick around any longer. The pictures of him all over the gym were enough, and she didn't know _why_ Cheryl was continuing this stupid act. The girl happily introduced Josie and the Pussycats and strode off stage.

She found Lorcan a few minutes later in her unmoved position by the punch but having drunk no more than her first sip. Reggie and Moose had come by and discreetly poured some alcohol in but even that wasn't enough to tempt her. She could feel herself growing weary of this evening and was about to turn and leave when the red-head strode over, a smile on her crimson lips.

"Enjoying yourself, Baby Snake?" Her expression was smug and Lorcan let out an aggravated sigh.

"Nice job Cheryl. You've pulled together a good night," she acknowledged begrudgingly.

"I know. Aren't you glad I made you come?"

"Sure. If you don't mind, though, now I'm going to go," she swivelled towards the exit and was about to leave when, again, she was stopped.

"But you can't!" Cheryl cried.

Lorcan sighed but she halted regardless, turning to look back at the girl. "Why?"

"Because you have to come to my after-party, of course."

"Oh, of course," Lorcan muttered sarcastically. She threw up her arms, deciding to throw caution to the wind. "Sure. What's the worst that can happen?"

* * *

Turned out, the worst was pretty bad. If you were Betty Cooper, that is. A fairly large group retired to the Blossom home, the exterior of which was strung up with fairy lights. Lorcan found herself in the living room, seated on the couch and nursing an actual alcoholic drink when Veronica, Archie and Betty walked in, the latter two looking around with awe written over their faces. Veronica spotted her and dragged Betty over.

"I'm surprised to see you here," Veronica greeted, seating herself on one side of Lorcan whilst Betty sat on the other.

"Not as surprised as I am," Lorcan returned, clinking glasses in cheers with her and throwing a rueful grin at Betty. "How are you, Betty?"

Betty looked surprised at being addressed by Lorcan but nodded. "I'm good."

"So, uh, how's it going with Andrews over there?" Lorcan asked, throwing a glance over her shoulder at Veronica as she tried to be discreet in her line of questioning.

Betty's eyes widened and she threw Veronica a harsh look as the dark-haired girl leaned over Lorcan's shoulder and muttered, "Not so well."

"Oh." Lorcan pulled a face. "I'm sure it'll be okay. You two would make a cute coupl-"

She was thankfully interrupted by Cheryl who strode over to the fireplace as she announced, "It's game time at Chez Blossom, kiddies. We're going old-school tonight. Seven Minutes in Heaven."

The three girls exchanged a look.

"Who wants to tryst in the closet of love first? My vote is A for Archie."

"Oh no," Lorcan whispered, knowing where this was likely going to go. It only took one glance out of the corner of her eye at Betty's face to see how terrified the poor girl was. "Don't Cheryl."

"Anyone care to second it?"

"Wait, actually – "Archie tried to stop it, looking akin to a deer caught in the headlights, but was drowned out by the raucous, "Yes, Andrews. Yes!" from Reggie.

"Alright kids," Cheryl grinned, looking like the cat who got the cream, as she placed an empty bottle on the table. "Let's see who's riding the ginger stallion tonight." She let the bottle spin.

Once it went round. Past Betty, past Cheryl, past Veronica, past Lorcan.

Twice.

It started to slow. Past Betty. Slower. Past Cheryl.

Slower.

Past Veronica.

Stop.

"Lorcan!"

"Oh, _fuck_." All eyes swivelled to her, including Archie's. Lorcan though looked at no one but Cheryl. "No."

"What do you mean, no?" A loud-mouthed Reggie yelled.

"I mean _no, dumbass._ You must be used to hearing that word. Or do you just have selective hearing?" Lorcan retorted harshly. Reggie made to jump out of his seat but Cheryl's voice stopped him.

"Oh come on, what's more poetic than Andrews getting his long-awaited kiss with his crush?" Cheryl goaded.

"Him _not_ getting it," Lorcan stood up, putting her cup down on the table and looking at Archie, "Sorry Andrews, it's nothing personal," then turned back to Cheryl, "I came, just like you wanted. Now I'm going."

"Wait!" Cheryl let out a sigh. "Fine. You get a free pass. We'll spin again. Now sit _down_."

Lorcan rolled her eyes but did as she was told.

"Probably for the best, Andrews," Reggie commented. "Who knows how many diseases a snake has?"

"Fewer than you," Lorcan hissed but was hushed by Cheryl as she spun the bottle again.

"This time, _no one_ gets a free pass."

Once it went round. Slower. Past Lorcan, past Betty. Slower.

Past Cheryl.

Stop.

"Oh, no way," Reggie sniggered.

"It's clearly pointing to the new girl," Cheryl announced.

Lorcan looked at a devasted Betty and Cheryl did as well, something glinting in her eyes as she leaned on the back of the couch opposite them. Had this been her intention all along?

"This should be fun."

"Um, I'm _not_ doing this," Veronica stated, glancing at Betty.

" _That's_ up to you," Cheryl remarked, walking slowly back to the fireplace, hand trailing over the back of the couch. " _But_ , if you don't, house rules decree that the hostess gets to take your turn. I did say no more free passes," she looked pointedly at Lorcan who was now beginning to think maybe she should have just taken the damn turn. It was the tears brimming in Betty's eyes that decided it.

"For God's sake, I'll do it," Lorcan huffed, moving to stand up. "It was my damn turn so come on then Archie."

"No," Cheryl decreed. "That's not your choice anymore. New girl?"

All eyes were on Veronica.

She took a deep breath. "Fine." She stood up, smoothing down her dress, before beckoning Archie with a finger. "Let's get this over with." He looked at her, gaping like a fish, before looking helplessly at Betty. He eventually just nodded mutely and followed Veronica to the closet.

Cheryl looked delighted as the door to the closet slammed shut behind the pair.

Lorcan glared at Cheryl, arms crossed over her chest. "I hope you're happy now."

* * *

Part of Lorcan didn't even want to stick around for the seven minutes Veronica and Archie were in the closet. But, the other part of her wanted to know if anything actually did happen in there. If Veronica would prove herself and abstain. If _Archie_ would prove himself to not be as clueless as he looked.

Betty left almost as soon as they went in. She, it seemed, didn't even want to wait that long.

When they came out looking all flustered and their clothes somewhat crumpled, Lorcan had her answer.

The first thing Veronica did was scan the place for, Lorcan was guessing, the pink dressed girl. Obviously, when she didn't find her, the alarmed question of "Where's Betty?" escaped her lips.

Lorcan glanced at them as she stood from her spot on the couch. "What, you think she _wanted_ to stick around to see if you two went at each other?"

"She spiralled and fled," Cheryl confirmed, watching distractedly as Lorcan made her way towards them. "Between us, she's a lot more high-strung than she looks."

The pair looked despairingly at Cheryl and Lorcan just shook her head. "Well, I'm gonna make like Betty and get out of this place."

Veronica seemed to be in agreement. "You shady bitch," she hissed, flouncing out of the door, Archie in tow.

As Lorcan passed her, she murmured to Cheryl, "Nice end to an evening that was _supposed_ to be about Jason."

* * *

Lorcan pushed open the door to Pop's, throwing back her head and letting a sigh of relief escape her. Her dark eyes scanned the diner, mainly to see if her booth was occupied, and she was delighted to see the beanied figure of her cousin hunched over his computer, the light of the screen casting an eerie shadow over his face. She sauntered over to him, dropping into the seat opposite him and smiling.

"Hey."

Jughead looked up and grinned. "Hey yourself." His eyes flitted over her, taking in the made-up face and dress. "Don't tell me you went to the dance?"

Lorcan snorted. "I can do you one better. I went to Cheryl's after party as well."

Jughead whistled. "Jesus."

"Yup." She frowned as she took in his tired face and wan smile. "You okay?"

Jughead nodded. "Course. Why wouldn't I be?"

Lorcan's brow remained furrowed but she didn't push it further, instead leaning her elbows on the table and resting her cheeks in her palms. "You sleeping over tonight? I left the window open for you in case I wasn't back."

"I'll be okay. Thank you though," Jughead hummed, leaning back and stretching.

The two were there for a half hour or so, a coffee for him and a soda for her, chatting amiably with Lorcan retelling the events of her evening when the door swung open. Jughead nudged her foot, gesturing for her to turn around. Lorcan swivelled and saw a person she didn't think she would see again that night.

Archie.

Lorcan's eyes widened and Jughead stared stonily at his old friend as he caught sight of the two of them and uneasily made his way to the counter, eyes flitting nervously over to them every now and then.

Lorcan turned back, exchanging a look with Jughead. They heard him ask Pop if he'd seen Betty but, of course, the answer was no. "Just the nighthawks in tonight," the owner commented, tilting his head in the Joneses' direction. Archie thanked him, seeming to make up his mind to walk over to them.

Lorcan looked up when she sensed a presence by her and nodded at the figure of Archie. He gave her a nervous smile, asking, "Can I sit?"

The question seemed to be more directed to Jughead than Lorcan so she waited for his answer of, "If you want," before moving to make room for the redhead.

"You still looking for her?" Lorcan asked quietly.

Archie sighed and nodded.

"She's probably just gone home," Lorcan commented, not knowing why she was trying to comfort him but doing it all the same.

"Yeah, you're probably right," he nodded, rubbing his hands on his legs. "What are you working on?" he directed this at Jughead.

Jughead's gaze flitted up from the screen. "My novel," he shrugged, "It's about this summer, and Jason Blossom."

"Seventeen years old, and how will he be remembered?" Archie lamented. "As captain of the water polo team?"

"The Aquaholics?" commented Jughead snidely, looking briefly out the window. "Considering how he died, probably not."

Lorcan felt a shiver go down her spine and she shifted in her seat, uncomfortable at the direction the conversation was taking.

"No," Archie started earnestly, "what I mean is… was he doing everything he was supposed to do? Everything _he_ wanted. I mean, did he even know what that was?"

Lorcan swallowed. "I think he did," she murmured quietly, her gaze falling to her hands in her lap.

The two boys looked her, their gazes equally searching, but she refused to look up and the air grew tense.

Jughead quickly changed the subject. "Coach Clayton was in here talking to Pop Tate. _Varsity_."

Lorcan snorted quietly. "Wow, Andrews."

Archie shook his head, a small smile on his face.

"Does that make you, what, Mr Popular-Football-God now?" Jughead continued, a teasing smirk in place, but Archie's face quickly fell grave.

"No," he shook his head, taking a deep breath. "In fact, I'm kind of terrified I lost my best friend tonight."

"Don't be stupid," Lorcan hit his shoulder lightly, leaving Archie to look at her with wide surprised eyes. "Just _talk_ to her, dumbass."

Jughead nodded in agreement. "It'll go a long way…Would've gone a long way with _me_."

"Okay. Maybe you're right-"

"Pssh, you _know_ we _are_ ," Lorcan teased, watching as the redhead stood up and straightened up his jacket.

"I'll see you guys," he said, sounding actually genuine, a warm smile flitting across his face.

"Don't be a stranger," Lorcan called. She turned back to Jughead, noticing that he was watching her with a strange look on his face. "What?"

He shook his head. "Since when were you so nice?" he teased.

She groaned, her head falling into her arms. "Don't start."

All in all, it had been a fairly decent evening. Lorcan couldn't ignore the growing pit in her stomach, though, that told her something bad was coming.

.

.

.

She was right.

Irene shook her awake in the early hours of the morning, hair bedraggled and eyes wide.

"What?" she mumbled, eyes squinting against the bright light.

"It's Jason Blossom."

Lorcan's eyes snapped open fully and she sat up quickly. "What about him?"

"They've found his body."


End file.
